Sea Breeze
by Sabayon
Summary: Ginko's a bleeding moron, and Adashino can see right through him. Hurt/comfort, mild slash.


Ratings: mild swearing, blood, and slash. All comments greatly appreciated :)

The valley nestled in the summer heat, a warm snake of tepid air coiling its way through the houses and rice paddies. It was along one of these paddies that I presently walked, wobbling on the unstable mud verge between the sodden and over-green shoots and the three foot drop to the next tier. I was trying to gain enough height to leave the stifling humidity of the valley behind - hungry or not, I wasn't descending back into the nasal haze of cut grass, buffalo dung and over-boiled dashi. I reached the edge of the uppermost paddy terrace and moved into the shadowed forest. A few sweaty minutes later, I reached the top of the ridge and stared out at the view. A triangle of deep green sea glinted tantalizingly from between two steep rises of pine. Flickering, hardly perceptible, a cooler air coasted around me: I liked to think it was the sea breeze. That made me pause; I was only another day's walk from Adashino's place at the most. The sun glared down on me and I wiped sweat from my neck. I had work to do. I turned away from the winking sea.

The mushi hadn't been hard to find: a blue chill ran down my spine as I approached its location despite the hot and motionless air that seemed to be cramped around each and every tree I passed. It twined, a black, semi-translucent clump ten metres above my head, around a large fir. Moving within the black cloud were numerous gleaming red globules that twisted in the heat. Well. It wouldn't be as simple to get this one down as I thought it might. I brushed the fir tentatively, and the mushi convulsed against the tree, red globes spinning rapidly through the twisted black clump. Considerably more aggressive than most - no wonder the withered ex-mushishi granny down in the village hadn't been able to contain it. I set down my trunk and began to place a ring of shallow, kouki-filled dishes around the base of the tree. As I filled the last one with the curious gold light, the mushi began to shriek in the otherwordly tone I knew I was the only one hearing. I crouched, bamboo vial ready, and waited. The screams - I could only call them that - pulsated in my ears and added to the spiking headache the relentless heat had laid on me. Were those individual words the thing was screeching?

It did seem to be unravelling from the tree - what _was _it saying?

"I don't WANT to leave! Leave me alone!" screamed the mushi. I wasn't sure what to say for a moment. A conscious mushi? Or it could have been desperately expelling human phrases it had learnt over the course of its existance in an attempt to win me over.

"Too bad. You've caused a lot of trouble for the humans in the valley." I said.

The mushi coiled up in one elastic clump and then lashed down at me. I stumbled back, arm over my head - it shouldn't have been able to break the kouki barrier - and heard, rather than felt, something ripping through my coat. I fell to the ground. The forest was silent once more, warmth dark and stifling as the trees blocked out the sun. I looked down at myself and felt faint. The mushi, now probably shooting rapidly towards the ridge, had raked from my left hipbone to my sternum in a line that had already created a scarily large blood stain across my ragged shirt. My head pounded as adrenaline sunk out of my system and was replaced by pain. Well, fuck. The damn mushi had escaped and I was bleeding out. I stared absently at the kouki fading gold into the nest of pine needles burying the forest floor as I wondered what to do in some detachment.

Eventually I stumbled back to my trunk and tied my scarf tight around the lower half of the cut - oh god that hurt. I didn't have anything for the upper half, but did it matter? I realised with some anxiety that even my mind was off kilter from the blood loss. Now I'd have a real reason to see Adashino.

I'd eventually realised, through a haze, that I wouldn't cover a day's walk in three hours bleeding. Sighing at my loss of altitude, I stumbled back down into the thick warmth of the valley and hitched a ride on the last cart heading to the coast. I had to jump off as they turned northwards, saying a quick thanks and a silent apology for the blood I may or may not have left on their rice pallets. Still a good hour's walk to Adashino's, but I knew I needed to make it tonight or face the consequences of possibly not waking up in the morning.

I dragged myself through the outskirts of the village to the sole light that was probably Adashino re-congratulating himself on his warehouse of rarities. I'd tried not to look back down, but the scarf had slipped off my waist, wet and dark, and my stomach turned. Finally, I reached the porch and levered myself up on it, not bothering with shoe removal or any of that crap. It was a good thing Adashino came to the door, because I really didn't have the energy to yell for him.

"Ginko...! Why are you here?" He said, still hovering in the doorway. I couldn't see the look on his face (I hoped it was at least a moderately welcoming one).

"Give me a hand, will ya? Injured person here." I groaned. He moved then, swiftly pulling up the remnants of my shirt.

"That looks bad. What happened, harakiri failure or something?" Adashino said, carrying my trunk inside and looping an arm around mine to help me up.

"Shut up." Okay, my legs didn't want to help with this one. I slumped back to the floor, pulling Adashino with me in a way that probably made his shoulders hurt. Hah. Then I blacked out.

Seagulls, I thought. The sun stabbed at my eyes so I rolled over and pulled up the futon with a groan. Ow. Mistake of the century. Adashino came into view as a pair of feet that folded into a pair of crossed legs.

"So why'd you come to see me? You usually send a letter first." he said. I rolled the other way with some difficulty and ran a hand over my stomach. Rough linen bandages, and stitches, probably, underneath. Memories nudged at my mind, candlelight, Adashino's deft hands, and some weird-ass anaesthetic that smelt like grilled eel.

"Mushi in the area got away, decided to stab me first. What did it look like?" I growled. Oh, I hoped he didn't know. Adashino raised an eyebrow. "Haven't had any sightings for months around here." I sighed in defeat as one of his hands messed through my hair. The sea breeze brushed over us from the open door. I glanced sidelong at Adashino's silent form sitting next to me at one point, and I think he was smiling.


End file.
